


The Season of Giving

by DemonicDelicacy



Category: Cats - Andrew Lloyd Webber, Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats - T. S. Eliot
Genre: Background Relationships, Background Tuggoffelees, Christmas, Gen, Humor, Munkustrap & Rum Tum Tugger are Siblings, Some Demestrap and Platoria if you squint, Sort Of, they don't call it that but it's around the same time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-11 23:21:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29250639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonicDelicacy/pseuds/DemonicDelicacy
Summary: Now that he thought about it he did remember Munkustrap telling him that he had picked up knitting as a hobby some time ago. Something about Jenny wanting the Jellicle Protector to relax more and teaching him the craft herself. Tugger had teased him for it for a little bit, but he didn’t remember hearing anything about it after that. It looked like Munk had been knitting stuff for others in the meantime.(Or, Munkustrap knits sweaters for the Jellicles and Tugger suffers.)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 36





	The Season of Giving

**Author's Note:**

> Leave it to Cats to be the first fandom in 10+ years to drag me kicking and screaming into writing fanfiction.
> 
> This was inspired by nunsongici on tumblr and her adorable comic of Munkustrap knitting Misto and Tugger sweaters.
> 
> This is my first time writing anything so constructive critique is welcomed. :D

Wintertime had to be Tugger’s least favorite time of the year. He had always considered himself lucky, having been born with such long, thick, and luxurious fur. It didn’t just look magnificent, it also managed to keep back the bite of the December air. Many of the other cats of the Jellicle tribe weren’t so fortunate.

Jellicles who have humans would end up staying longer at their homes, and those without would retreat to their dens more often in order to avoid the icy, winter air. The typically active junkyard, with its boisterous tribe of strange and eccentric cats was far too quiet in the dead of winter, a drab and dreary mood overtaking it. Even Tugger’s captivating presence wasn’t enough to completely shake the gloom of the junkyard in winter.

Mistoffelees and Victoria had approached Munkustrap with the idea of having a small festival to help lighten that mood, and give a reason for the Jellicles to come together and be merry, if only for the day. Munk had been elated by the idea, all too eager to inject some vibrancy into the tribe again. Once word had spread, many of the Jellicles had gotten together to contribute and build the event into something bigger and better.

Victoria, Misto, and Plato had offered to handle the entertainment for the night, and soon enough had gathered a bunch of the younger cats who agreed to help. Bustopher Jones was bringing the food while Jennyanydots was supplying the milk and cream. Alonzo and Cassandra were in charge of decorations. Demeter was in charge of Munkustrap. More specifically, stopping the Jellicle Protector from overworking himself. Tugger was bringing himself, and that was sure to provide a night’s worth of entertainment. Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer also offered to bring food, an offer that was quickly declined. Even Old Deuteronomy planned to attend.

It was no Jellicle Ball, but it was shaping up to be a great time. Just planning the event had most of the Jellicles in high spirits.

The event was tonight, so Mistoffelees had left his and Tugger’s den early that morning to meet with Victoria and help with the last of the preparations. But that had left Tugger with a whole lot of nothing to do, just sitting in the den by himself. At first he had filled his time with his extensive grooming routine, taking extra care with his mane. But once that was done he’d found himself idle and bored. And The Rum Tug Tugger just didn’t do “bored”.

Despite it now being late afternoon, it was obvious that Misto wasn’t going to be back anytime soon, so Tugger decided to go hunting for some entertainment of his own. He emerged from the warmth of his den into the icy winter air. Maybe he’d go see what Bomba was up to, she didn’t have any prep planned for the festival.

Making his way through the Yard, Tugger paused for a moment, ears perking. Was that... jingling he heard in the distance? He knew the humans liked to ring loud bells in the park this time of year but there weren’t any parks near enough. It sounded like it was somewhere in the junkyard. Were they hanging up bells for the festival?

_“Give it back!”_

The Maine Coon didn’t get a chance to dwell on that though, having to quickly jump back to avoid being barreled over by Pouncival. Tumblebrutus was hot on his heels, and then just as quickly on the other’s back, knocking the patched kit onto the ground. The two brawled and scrapped, kicking, punching and biting at each other. Tugger, realizing he was the only other cat around, figured he should probably do something.

“Whoa, whoa, come on, guys!” Tugger reached into the pile of flailing limbs and managed to pull Tumble off of his brother. He held the kit from under his arms, Tumble hissing and spitting while Pounce was panting hard.

“What the hell is the problem this time?” Tugger asked, trying to keep a grip on the still angry and wriggling kit.

“He stole my hat!” Tumble shouted.

“I did not!” Pounce shouted back.

Tumblebrutus paused in his wriggling to glare at his younger brother. “You’re wearing _both_ of them!”

Sure enough, now that Tugger’s attention wasn’t on trying to wrangle Tumble, he could see that Pouncival was indeed wearing two hats. He had a blue knit hat on, with a fuzzy pom on the end and two little openings for his ears to poke through. But the hat was stretched tight and bulging, obviously not made to fit over the identical green hat that was peeking out from underneath. Pounce ducked his head, trying to pull the blue hat further down to hide his stolen prize.

Tugger raised an eyebrow. “Really, kit?”

Pouncival at least had the sense to look sheepish.

Tugger snorted. “My suggestion is that you run. In 5... 4...”

Pouncival didn’t need another warning, shooting up and taking off at a dash. Tugger held onto Tumble until he reached 0, releasing the kit with a “Go get ‘em, tiger” as he took off in the same direction.

Tugger gave himself a little pat on the back. He played the role of Responsible Tom well. Letting siblings work out their problems on their own was healthy. It built character.

Continuing on, Tugger walked up and over a junk pile, spotting Coricopat and Tantomile just ahead. They were sat in their usual spot on an old oak table, candles and stones of various sizes and colors spread about. The twins would regularly come out here to meditate and do other mystical, magical things. They’d always have all kinds of seemingly random bits and bobs with them, and Tugger knew if he said that too loud Tantomile would roll her eyes while Coricopat would begin to explain what each and every item was for and why it was important.

Tugger wasn’t usually (re: wasn’t ever) interested in a lesson on mysticism, but he was curious about the really, _really_ long and fluffy green scarf that was wrapped haphazardly between the two of them.

“Hello, Tugger.” They spoke in unison as he approached, knowing it was him without even opening their eyes.

“Hey guys. Nice scarf.”

“Yes, your brother made it for us.” Tantomile said with a smile, opening her eyes.

“Straps made that?”

Now that he thought about it he did remember Munkustrap telling him that he had picked up knitting as a hobby some time ago. Something about Jenny wanting the Jellicle Protector to relax more and teaching him the craft herself. Tugger had teased him for it for a little bit, but he didn’t remember hearing anything about it after that. It looked like Munk had been knitting stuff for others in his off time. That would also explain Tumble and Pounce’s new hats.

“He has great intuition. The color green supports balance and harmony. Exactly the energies we wanted to work on today.” Coricopat explained.

All three cats’ ears perked up as more erratic jingling was heard in the distance. Immediately followed by a shriek of terror and a cry of triumph.

Tantomile huffed, “Harmony may be particularly rough today.”

Tugger laughed at that. “Hey, you guys know where I’ll find Bomba at?”

Coricopat closed his eyes and hummed, “You will find her once you head to the Yard Center.”

“Great, thanks.” Tugger waved as the twins wished him farewell in unison.

A little further into the Yard, Tugger saw Jemima, Etcetera and Electra talking excitedly amongst themselves under a bent street sign some distance away. All three were wearing identical looking hooded cardigans with some minor variations for each kit. Jemima’s was white with long bunny ears sewn onto the hood, and a fluffy tail on the back. Etcetera’s had a light, creamy color with droopy Pollicle ears and a curled tail. And Electra’s was orange with black sleeves, pointed black ears, and a bushy fox tail.

The girls caught sight of him as he passed and eagerly began waving. Tugger flashed them his best smile and waved back. He chuckled at Etcetera’s excited squeal, Electra bopping her on the head to get her to quiet down.

Tugger’s ear perked once again, catching the sound of jingling bells in the distance. It was louder this time, and... getting closer? Tugger’s ears swiveled to and fro and he turned this way and that, trying to find the source of the rapidly approaching chimes. A sudden flash of orange jetted past, before skidding to a halt.

“Oi Tugger, check this out!”

Mungojerrie spread his arms out wide and Tugger could finally see where the strange jingling noise he’d been hearing was coming from. Jerrie was sporting an orange and black striped sweater that was cropped on the bottom so his belly was showing. The mischievous Tom did a little shimmy, jingling the dozen or so bells that were sewn onto the top.

Tugger gaped, “What in the Everlasting Cat are you wearing?”

“It’s a sweater, mate! Straps made one for me an’ Teazer. He’s something else ain’t he?”

And just like that Jerrie was somersaulting away before Tugger could even respond. He could hear erratic jingling nearby that was answered by a softer jingling in the distance. Tugger shook his head. What in Everlasting’s name was Munk _thinking_?

Tugger made it to the Yard Center, sauntering through and keeping an eye out for Bomba. The Yard Center had been completely decorated for the night’s festivities, a large makeshift stage placed in the middle, and several sheets stitched together to form a canopy above. It seemed like Munkustrap had made his way through the whole junkyard as everyone in the center was sporting some new, knit apparel.

Plato and Victoria were on the stage talking quietly, practically breathing the same air they were so close. Victoria had on a fitted, white turtle neck with swirling pink accents all along the sleeves and sides. Plato wore a simple brown and white jacket that he had buttoned up. Skimbleshanks was wiping down a couple of tables for the food, wearing a brand new green knit vest with gold buttons. Alonzo was fiddling with a bow on one of the posts, wearing a sleek black sweater. Cassandra was nearby doing the same with an elegant, white, lace knit shawl draped over her shoulders.

Someone giggles nearby, soft jingling followed right after.

“Look who finally decided grace us with his presence.”

Tugger turned around, sarcastic retort drying up in his mouth at the sight before him. Bombalurina was wrapped in a long, red sweater, it’s length edging the line between a dress and a shirt. The knitted top was form fitting, hugging her in all the right places, the sleeves pulled low to bare her shoulders and collarbone.

Tugger took the fiery queen by the hand, giving her a twirl as he took in her outfit. He whistled, “Damn, Straps made you that? Didn’t think he could make something so scandalous.”

“This is actually what we compromised on.” She said, placing a hand on her cocked hip.

“What was your first choice? Knit lingerie?”

Tugger dodged the swipe she took at him, both of them laughing. “Hey, watch the mane!”

“Originally I had wanted something sleeveless. Maybe a little shorter. With an open back.” She purred.

Demeter came up and linked her arm in Bomba’s. “A lot of open back. It was practically just a strip of fabric in the front.”

As if in contrast to Bombalurina’s provocative dress, Demeter was practically drowning in her sweater, a large, fluffy, golden turtleneck. Tugger huffed a laugh at the sight. Munk must’ve made Demeter’s after Bomba’s, probably to cleanse his soul after having made something so risqué.

“The look on Munk’s face when Bomba described it to him was priceless though,” Demeter laughed.

Tugger felt a familiar tingle of electricity pass over him as a body pressed against his and an arm wrapped around his waist. Tugger in turn draped his arm around their shoulders, relaxing into Mistoffelees warmth.

“Munk is so straight laced sometimes, I wouldn’t be surprised to hear he fainted.” Misto chuckled.

“You too?” Tugger asked, gesturing to the top the tuxedo cat was adorned in.

Misto’s eyes lit up and he grabbed the hem of the sweater to better show Tugger the front. It was a midnight blue, with little white stars sweeping across the chest. “Do you like it? Munk gave it to me this morning.”

Tugger snorted, “Yeah, I see he’s been real busy today.”

“Speaking of.” Demeter nodded her head in the direction behind Tugger.

Munkustrap was stepping out of Jennyanydots den, a large sack clutched between his paws and slung over his shoulder. Jenny had what looked like a stack of knitted blankets in her arms.

“They’re beyond lovely, my dear. I can see these were made with so much care and attention to detail.” Jenny was saying. “I’ll be sure to make good use of them.”

“Thank you, Jenny. That means a lot coming from you.”

“No, thank you! Now off you go and finish your run. I’ll see to it that Jelly receives her blankets as soon as she returns.”

Munk waved goodbye and turned to walk away, noticing Tugger and the others nearby.

“Good afternoon, everyone.” He greeted politely.

“Hey Munk.” Demeter said, giving Munk a little nuzzle. “We were just talking about you.”

“Good things, I hope.”

“We were talking about your gifts.” Bomba said.

“Ah, yes.” Munkustrap actually looked a little embarrassed at that. “I had been working on them for a while now. And with our festival being tonight, I thought what better a time to give them out?”

“Isn’t there a human tradition for giving out gifts this time of year?” Misto asked.

“Yes! That’s why I decided to give out everyone’s at once.” Munk chuckled. “It was quite the challenge trying incorporate every cat’s personality into their gift.”

Rapid jingling signaled Mungojerrie’s return as he suddenly came sprinting into the center. He pointed victoriously in Skimble’s direction.

“Hah! Found ya!”

Skimble blinked, pointing at himself in confusion and Rumpleteazer popped up from underneath a table, laughing loudly as Skimble nearly tipped over in surprise. She was wearing an identical sweater to Jerrie, bells and all.

“Took ya long enough!”

The two shimmied and shook, bells clattering as they danced around the center. Tugger raised an eyebrow and pointed his thumb in their direction.

Munk sighed, placing a paw to his forehead. “The idea was that we would always know where they were.”

The two ran and jumped up, chest bumping each other, little bells loudly clanging.

“I think you just gave them a new way to terrorize.” Misto said.

Tugger snickered, “Seems pretty spot on to me. Straps made everyone something tailor made for them.”

“Oh, that reminds me!” Munkustrap turned and excitedly dug through his sack, “I made you one as well, Tugger!”

Tugger perked up at that, actually a little excited to see what Munk made him. He wasn’t usually too big on getting gifts, not really interested in what other people thought he might like. But he had to admit, seeing everyone else walk about in their new duds kinda made him want his own.

That excitement died quickly once Munkustrap pulled the sweater from his sack, brandishing his find with pride. “Here it is!”

“It” was probably one of the ugliest things Tugger had seen. A black pullover sweater with goddamned flames running along the bottom and two red dragons running down the arms. If that wasn’t bad enough, written across the chest in red letters was “Little Bro”.

“I tried to make it look cool.” Munk was saying, while Tugger stared at the abomination in his paws with horror. “It actually matches with mine.”

Munk dug through his sack once more, drawing out and holding up an identical black sweater with “Big Bro” written across the chest.

Tugger laughed sharply at that. “You can’t be serious.” This had to be a prank.

Munk’s eager smile slipped a bit, “You don’t like it?”

Tugger snorted and wanted to ask what part of the sweater was supposed to be “cool”, but instead yelped at the sudden shock to his hip. He looked over at Mistoffelees, eyebrows raised, and the tux shook his head and gave him a hard stare back. Misto tilted his head in Munk’s direction and Tugger turned to look back at the silver tabby.

Munk was staring sadly at the front of the sweater, trying to puzzle out what was wrong, looking for all the world like a cat that had just been kicked out to the front stoop on a cold, windy night. After a day of successful gift giving, it must’ve stung to have his own brother reject his gift. Tugger actually felt a bit of guilt nip at him.

“I worked really hard on them.” Munk said softly, ears and tail drooping low.

Tugger stiffened up when Demeter and Bomba shot dark glares his way. Another shock to the hip and Misto had a look on his face that shouted “FIX THIS”.

“W-whoa, hold on.” Tugger said strolling up and plucking the offending fabric out from Munk’s paws. “I never said I didn’t like it.”

Munkustrap's ears flitted up, a cautiously hopeful look on his face. “So... You do like it?”

Tugger looked at the sweater again, trying not to grimace. “Yeah,” he lied, “Its great.”

If it meant the Jellicle Protector wouldn’t walk around with such a pathetic look on his face, Tugger would lie. Everlasting knows he didn’t want every Queen and Tom in the tribe after his hide for upsetting their poor leader. All he had to do was take the sweater, maybe wear it once to appease Munk and then find a nice fire to burn it in.

Munk smiled at that, looking relieved. “I’m glad. I was hoping we could wear them tonight when Old Deuteronomy comes for the festival.”

“You want to wear these in front of the old man?!” Tugger all but shrieked.

“Yes. Is that a problem?” Munk was giving him that look again, that expression of earnest hope and excitement.

Another shock, this time to the back, and Tugger bit back the twelve hundred other things he wanted to say and instead managed a weak “Nope. No problem here.”

Munk beamed, Bomba snickered, Demeter shook her head, Misto gave him a pitying pat on the back, and Rumpleteazer cartwheeled past, her bells loudly ringing in his ears.

****************************************************************************************

Tugger strolled up to the party about two hours after it had began. There was an art to being fashionably late, and he was a damned good artist. It definitely didn’t have anything to do with a certain hideous sweater that he was being forced to wear for the night. In fact, Tugger was intent on being the sexiest cat at the festival, despite his major handicap. The key was a healthy helping of overconfidence that normally comes easy to the Maine Coon. Not so much on this night. His only comfort was the fact that he wouldn’t be the only ridiculous looking cat there. Munkustrap would be looking just as silly in his ugly sweater.

He yanked a bit at the collar. The damned sweater covered up his mane and made him way too hot. But he had a plan to help him get out of it as fast as possible. Munkustrap just wanted to show off to Old Deut, right? Munk was sure to be at the Jellicle Leader’s side all throughout the night, so Tugger would head straight to the tire their father was always sat upon, talk it up a bit with the both of them, show off the sweaters, and then make a big show of being too hot. Munk would feel bad, tell him to take the top off, and Tugger could go and be his usual, gorgeous self guilt free.

With his plan set, Tugger quickly made his way around the Yard Center, trying not to be noticed by too many cats. It thankfully wasn’t that difficult, with all eyes on the performance that was happening on the makeshift stage. Some kind of play, with Pouncival and Tumblebrutus using plastic knives as swords. He hurried past, making a beeline for the tire. As he got closer he spotted Munk, sitting at their father’s side, a paw on his face and looking annoyed as Pounce was “stabbed”, the kit dramatically wailing and slowly dropping to the ground.

Tugger glanced down and stopped dead in his tracks.

“Hey,” he shouted, trudging up to the silver tabby. “What gives!”

Munk turned around, an eyebrow raised at Tugger’s sudden outburst.

“Something wrong, Tugger?”

“Tugger! Good to see you, son.” Old Deuteronomy greeted.

Tugger pointed an accusing claw at Munk, “That’s not the sweater you said you were going to wear!”

Munk smiled, looking down at the simple grey cardigan he wore. No flames, no dragons, no text of any kind. “Isn’t it? It’s the only sweater I knitted for myself.”

“No, yours was—“ Tugger grit his teeth, realizing that some of the others were glancing curiously over at them. He stepped a little closer, dropping his voice low.

“It was like this.” He hissed, pointing at his own sweater. The sweater that he only wore because Munk had said they would be matching. And here Munkustrap was without his hideous top, the traitor.

“Ah. That’s right.” Munk’s smile grew into a wide grin as a gave a little shrug. “Must’ve slipped my mind.”

Tugger scoffed, “Yeah right!”

“No, it’s true! You see,” Munk stood and slung an arm around Tugger’s shoulders, leaning in close, “I seem to recall you saying that knitting was for ‘lonely old Queens’. And you know, those lonely old Queens can be very forgetful.”

And Tugger suddenly remembered that day, some time ago, when Munkustrap had told him that he had picked up knitting as a hobby. And Tugger had teased Munk about it a little bit and then heard nothing about it afterwards.

Tugger gaped. “You- You can’t be serious.”

“I can’t believe you actually wore it.” Munkustrap placed a hand over his mouth, his shoulders vibrating with barely contained laughter. “Who knew The Rum Tum Tugger could be so easily persuaded by a little whining and some sad kitten eyes!”

Tugger was indignant, embarrassment hot across his face. “You did all of this _just_ to get back at me for calling your hobby lame!?”

Munkustrap burst out laughing then, doubled over and gripping his sides. Tugger could feel his blood pressure rising, his fur raising, and he did the only thing he could think of: he tackled Munkustrap to the ground.

The two brawled and scrapped, kicking, punching and biting at each other. The fight had gathered every cat’s attention, the play coming to an abrupt halt as everyone watched the brothers in shocked silence.

Jennyanydots looked on with concern, turning to Old Deuteronomy. “Should we try to stop them?”

“No, leave them be.” The old cat had a twinkle in his eye. “Letting siblings work out their problems on their own is healthy. It builds character.”

****************************************************************************************

Munkustrap and Tugger walked with an arm slung over each other’s shoulders, gasping and wheezing with laughter. Both cats looked a little haggard, their fur a wild mess and their sweaters torn.

“I can not believe you rushed me like that, did you seriously think you’d win?” Munk said, once his laughter died down enough to speak.

“Hey, I got a couple of good hits in!” Tugger winked.

“You only got those hits in because I had to catch my breath from all that laughing.”

“Excuses~” Tugger sing-songed. “I think Mr. Protector needs to admit that there’s a new cat in the Yard that can challenge his undefeated title.”

Munk gave Tugger a playful shove.

“Gotta say, I’m impressed, Straps.” Tugger said. “I didn’t know you could be so devious.”

Munk looked a little embarrassed at that. “Ah, well I can’t take all the credit for it. The whole thing was Misto’s idea.”

Tugger stopped in his tracks. “Say what now.”

“Yeah, he has a surprisingly mischievous side. When I told him about you making fun, he said I just _had_ to get back at you. He concocted the idea of creating an ugly sweater and forcing you to wear it.”

Tugger gasped, placing a hand over his heart. “The betrayal! My own mate!” He wished he could he say he was surprised.

“When Demeter and Bomba found out they also wanted in on it. Together we formed a fool-proof plan to get you in the sweater.” Munk looked pretty proud of himself then.

Tugger gaped. “Wait, so was the whole festival just part of a plan to prank me?”

Munk laughed at that. “Oh, goodness, no! That was coincidental. But it did give us the perfect opportunity to exact our plan.”

Tugger chuckled, and wrapped his arm back around Munk’s shoulder. “Well you know what this means now, don’t you?”

Munk raised an eyebrow.

“It means I have to come up with my own prank to get you back.” Tugger winked.

Munkustrap looked up to the sky a groan of despair leaving his mouth. “Oh, Everlasting. What have I started?”

Tugger nodded solemnly. “You’ve started a war, big brother.”

The two of them laughed and continued on into the night, banter shared easily between them.

**Author's Note:**

> I was originally gonna end the fic on Old Deut's line, but I didn't want anyone to think Tugger and Munk were seriously mad at each other. I see them as brothers and anyone with siblings knows you just gotta bully your brother sometimes.


End file.
